We've Got One Shot
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: A collection of oneshots written for various challenges/competitions. Various characters/pairings/genres/warnings. The details of each one are at the top of each chapter. Enjoy.
1. JamesLily

**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise. **

**A/N - This will be a collection of oneshots written for the Monthly OneShot Competition. Various Pairings/Character/Genres/Everything. I will list at the top of each chapter what it is about. **

* * *

**Month of Competition - January **

**Character - James Potter**

**Pairing - Mentions of James/Lily**

**Prompt #1 Prefect Badge.**

**Defining Moment **

The last Hogwarts letter I ever received was a defining moment in my life. The smile on my parent's face when they saw the Head Boy badge fall out will never leave me, the pride shining from their eyes will forever be ingrained in my mind. They died, two weeks later in a Death Eater attack in Diagon Alley. They had only been there for ten minutes when the masked murderers arrived, and within seconds, their lives had been snuffed out.

That summer I had to grow up, fast. There would be no more acting the fool. I would return to school for my last year, the way I knew my parents would want me too. After that, I would make it my life's purpose to hunt down the monsters who destroyed my parents and countless other lives on a misguided mission to 'purify the world.'

The badge, the head boy badge that I never really wanted, was a part of that maturing. When Moony got the Prefect badge in our fifth year, we took the mickey out of him. I could never understand the pride with which he wore it, could never understand why it was so important to know that the teachers had faith in him. Now I can understand.

Evans was mightily annoyed that I would be sharing the responsibility with her. When she saw me in the carriage waiting for her, I thought steam would start pouring from her ears she looked so mad. Another part of maturity came when I decided to stop chasing her. Of course, I still loved her, I always will, but i finally understood that embarrassing her every other day with yet another stupid declaration of love would not win her over.

Sirius was surprised at the change, but he accepted it, and I loved him for that. As much as we are very much a foursome of friends, Sirius will always be my most trusted, my closest friend. I know he would never betray me, would never do anything to hurt me, and he knows I would never betray him. He's my brother, regardless of DNA or name.

Our last year at Hogwarts was hard, and breakfast quickly became the worst time of the day. The Prophet came bearing terrible news of more death and destruction, all done in the name of the monster that had killed my parents. Recognisable names would jump out at us daily, students running out of the hall as they read about their parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, all being killed in the name of Voldemort.

I refuse to be scared of the monster. I will not use You Know Who, or any other stupid name other people have taken to calling him. I will not call him Lord. He has no right to demand that of anyone, there is nothing royal about him. He is nothing but a murderer. _Nothing_.

I threw myself into studies and head boy duties, determined to be accepted into the Aurors. I would train and learn to deal with the parasites that blighted our would. I would make my parent's proud.

Lily noticed me during that year, mostly I think because I kept my head down and stopped pestering her. I stopped fighting with Snape, we stopped with the majority of our pranks, though of course, we didn't stop completely. She started to talk to me after meetings, would stop in the corridor to chat and even began sitting with me in the common room.

I asked her to Hogsmead for the second visit and she accepted. I was so nervous. The masked murderers decided to ruin that for me too. They appeared in the middle of town, wands already shooting spells at anyone and everyone in sight. Some fought back, myself and Lily included, but we were overpowered both in numbers and power. As green light shot at Lily, I pushed her out of the way, missing the killing curse myself by inches. In the hospital wing afterwards, I kissed her tears away and told her everything would be okay. We both knew I was lying, but I think she appreciated it anyway.

That year at Hogwarts was the worst and the best, but in a way, I wouldn't change it for the world. Life is full of defining moments, for everyone, and my last year at school was full of them. As I stand in my graduation outfit in front of the mirror, a small smile sets itself on my face. The engagement ring in my pocket presses to my thigh, a comforting feeling as I leave the dorm for the last time.

Another defining moment. May life offer me many more.


	2. GeorgeHermione

**Month of Competition - January **

**Character - George **

**Pairing - George/Hermione **

**Prompt #2 Year**

**Years Go By**

It's been a year since the battle, a year since my twin left me on my own and yet it still feels as fresh and painful as it did the day it happened. Why did it have to be him and not me? He had no right to die, no right to leave me. I feel like a part of me is missing. I can't complete sentences. I stop half way through, expecting him to finish them for me, but silence is all I hear. I am in silence a lot these days, because nobody knows what to say to me anymore. I don't blame them, I don't even know what to think, never mind say. Its like he took half of my soul with him when he left, half of my brain, half of everything.

I don't find anything funny anymore. Ron fell off his broom and I couldn't even crack a smile. Ginny turned Harry purple because he was annoying her, and not even a flicker of amusement could be felt. I don't know how to be an I. Its always been we, or us, and I don't know how to be a single person. I don't want to be a single person. I want my other half back.

xxxxx

It's been two years since the battle, two years since my twin left me on my own and yet it still feels as fresh and painful as it did the day it happened. I've reopened the shop, Ron is running it with me, and while I am grateful to him for doing it, Ron isn't Fred. He doesn't know me like Fred did, and I don't know him like I knew Fred. Everything is different. Why couldn't things just stay the same?

Hermione spends a lot of time here too. At first I though it was because she and Ron had finally decided to be a couple, but apparently, I missed the beginning and end of that short relationship. They're still friends, and her presence is always welcome. She can organise like no other, and not only that, when she isn't reprimanding my ideas, she's actually really good at helping me with the inventing.

xxxxx

It's been three years since the battle, three years since my twin left me on my own and yet it still feels as fresh and painful as it did the day it happened. Ron has left the shop, after much persuading, and joined the Auror Programme. He seems happy there, though he comes home from training black and blue some nights. Hermione has started coming to the flat after work, and on the weekends she spends the entire day, first in the shop then in the flat.

She helps me with inventions, and she makes me remember to eat, and she makes me smile. She makes me laugh. She's taught me how to have a sense of humor again, and she's taught me how to deal with people again. I can complete sentences on my own. I cook for her, and she brings a bottle of wine on occasion, and we talk about Fred. She laughs as she reminisces with me, listening to my many tales of pranks and misbehavior. She makes me remember the good times.

xxxxx

It's been four years since the battle, four years since my twin left me on my own and the pain is still there. But I'm no longer alone, and the pain is manageable with laughter and remembrance, with hugs and kisses, with holding hands as we watch the stars. Hermione has made me whole again, and while I will always miss Fred, I know he wouldn't want me to live a half life. He would want me to live for both of us, to bring laughter to the world, and to be happy.


	3. DracoHarry

**Month of Competition - January **

**Characters - Draco , Ginny **

**Pairing - Draco/Harry **

**Warnings - Mentions of Abuse and some strong language**

**Prompt #3 Couch **

**Insecurities **

"You can sleep on the couch. There's pillows and blankets in the airing cupboard," Ginny sighed, letting the bedraggled looking Draco into the house. She turned to the stairs, planning to go back to bed, but she stopped. Looking at her guest, she frowned. "This has to stop though Draco. Either sort out your head, or stop putting him through hell and break off the relationship."

As she left the room, Draco took the sheets from the cupboard and set about making a bed up on the couch she had offered him. This had become a regular occurrence, and he knew he was being unfair by putting her in the middle of him and Harry all the time. She had been Harry's friend long before she was his, and she was fiercely loyal, so he knew this had to feel uncomfortable to her.

Of course, she would be fire-calling the black haired man, even as he made his bed, he knew. She always did, so Harry knew he was safe. The first time he had turned up on her doorstep, she thought that Harry had done something wrong. She couldn't have been more mistaken, and he made sure she knew that. Draco was the one with the problem.

Harry tried to be understanding, and Draco loved him all the more for it, but Harry could never understand the thoughts running through his head. They had been brought up differently, though Harry had never told Draco about his time with the muggles. Draco had been through hell with his father, nothing was ever good enough, and that had left a bigger mark than anyone could have guessed.

Draco's insecurities were deeply ingrained, and he had no idea what to do about them. Anytime Harry was in public, there was a chance it would set them off. A glance at another man, or even a woman. A polite word of thanks to a shop keeper. Leaving a tip for a male waiter. Simple things, things most people wouldn't even think about. This time, it had been a picture in the prophet that had set Draco off, a picture of Harry talking to the Minister.

In Draco's head, he knew that Harry and Minister Shacklebolt were friends, that they had fought together, that they shared a bond that everyone in the order shared. But that didn't stop him seeing things in the picture that more than likely weren't there. A flirtatious smile, they shook hands for too long, Harry looked the Minister directly in the eye.

He had thrown plates as he raged at Harry, accusing him of cheating, of wanting to be with other guys, called him all kinds of horrible names. Harry had sat in the chair and taken it all, not even blinking an eye at the smashing sound. As Draco had stormed from the room, he had seen something he never seen during or after any of their arguments.

A tear sliding silently down Harry's face.

xxxxx

Twenty minutes after she had gone upstairs, Ginny stormed back down them, glaring at Draco as she entered the living room.

"You made him cry. Harry hasn't cried for five years, since the end of the war, and you made him cry, you bastard!" She threw herself into the chair facing him, still glaring at him.

"Ginny, he know's my past, he knows how hard I had it as a child and he knows what that did to me. I can't change who I am, and if Harry chooses to be with me despite that, then who am I to turn away the man I love? I know I say horrible things to him, and I regret them, every single day, but I don't know how to change. I don't know how to make things better."

Draco was crying now, much the same way he did after every time he blew up at Harry, but the disappointment and anger in Ginny's eyes didn't soften, in fact, if anything, it got stronger.

"You listen to me, Draco Malfoy, and you listen well. Have you ever asked Harry about his time with the Dursleys?"

Her voice was scathing, and as she said the name Dursley, Draco heard a venom there that he had never heard before. He shook his head. He had always assumed Harry's life with the muggles had been average, and so had never thought to ask.

"Of course you haven't, because you're a self absorbed idiot. Harry was abused, as much as you and more, verbally and physically. My mother had to patch him up, fix broken bones, and hold him as he cried for hours every time Harry escaped that horrible place and came to us for whatever was remaining of the summer. They told him his parents died in a car crash, that his father had been driving drunk and ran the car off the road. They told him constantly that he was useless, that he should have died when he was a baby, and much more that I can't even contemplate. You didn't know any of that did you? You thought Harry wouldn't understand having a bad childhood? Guess what, jackass, he does."

Draco was speechless as Ginny finished her rant. He didn't know any of that, she was correct, and it struck a chord inside him. Why didn't he know any of that? Because he was a selfish idiot. As he stood up and started to clear up the makeshift bed, Ginny finally softened a little bit.

"You don't need to leave," she told him.

"I do," he replied, and he pulled her into a quick hug. "Thank you for telling me."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Home," he replied with a small smile. "My boyfriend needs me."


	4. Trio Friendship

**Month of Competition - January **

**Characters - Harry , Hermione , Ron **

**Pairings - Very brief mentions of H/G R/H **

**Prompt #4 Frown **

**Also Written for - Star Challenge - Prompt - Alpha Centauri **

**A New Generation **

Harry watched as they walked towards him, a small smile on his face. He had known they would come, and he had known they would know exactly where to find him. They were holding hands, something small to anyone else, but to Harry, it meant hope. Hope that they would manage to finally work through their difficulties, even after all these years.

They sat beside him, one to each side, just the way it used to be.

"Hey," Hermione murmured, kissing his cheek. She was still as beautiful as she had been in her youth, and Harry smiled at her.

"Hey," he replied, speaking to both of them.

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the nostalgia that had settled over each of them.

"Can you believe how long it's been?" Ron said, finally breaking the silence.

"I know, it seem's hard to believe. Most people ignore the anniversary now, having more important things to think about, I imagine," Hermione replied, snorting. How anything could be more important than surviving a war, she had no idea, but she supposed that was just the way society worked.

"It's another generation now, none of them even remember the war, a lot of them weren't even born. Our own kids weren't born, and they all have children of their own now."

"If I didn't feel old before, I do now. Thanks mate," Ron muttered at Harry, though he was smiling.

"How are you liking being Headmaster, Harry?" Hermione asked, gazing up at the old castle. So many memories were held in that building, both good and bad, happy and sad.

"It's good, a lot more paperwork that one would expect," Harry replied wryly. He had always known he would come home to the castle, but he had never imagined he would be Headmaster. The school he had found a home in all those years ago had welcomed him back with open arms, and he had never felt so at peace with his life.

"Have you heard about Ginny?" Ron asked, his voice strained.

After the children had grown up and moved out, Ginny had become restless in marriage. Stating that they had had no chance to explore the world before they had settled down, she had packed her bags and left. Twenty years on, and Harry had still not seen her. The last contact they had was through lawyers as they settled their divorce.

"No, what about her?" he asked, a slight frown marring his aged face.

"She remarried, some rich Swedish bloke."

"That's nice, I guess."

"Yeah," Ron replied, apparently glad that the news had gone down well. No one ever mentioned Ginny to Harry, no matter how many times he told them that it didn't bother him.

"Hermione."

"Harry."

"How are you enjoying retirement?"

"I'm not. It's boring."

"Do you want to be a teacher?"

Ron laughed as he watched his wife tackle his best friend. He had known the offer was coming, in fact it had been his idea to ask her here.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume that's a yes," Harry said as he pried his friend from him, laughing as he did.

"I love you Headmaster Harry."

"I know, Professor Hermione. Or Weasley. Whatever. Come on, lets go up to the castle, we can grab lunch in my office and fill out some forms. You'll start in September?"

"Of course."

Ron grinned as he stood up, holding his hand out to help Hermione up. She accepted it with a grateful smile. Harry stood last, resting his hand briefly on the tree they had been sat under. The same tree they had sat under countless times, all those years ago, before the war, before the fighting, when they were still innocent kids.

As he heard the bell for class change, he smiled to himself. The war might be long over, but as long as he was alive, he would watch over the new generations, making sure the past didn't repeat itself. No child would go through everything the three of them had gone through. Not while he was still breathing.


	5. ErnieArabella

**Month of Competition - January **

**Prompt - #7 Ginger **

**Pairing - Ernie Prang / Arabella Figg **

**Word Count without A/N - 811 **

**Also Written For - Write All The Ships Challenge / One Million Added Words Competition / Represent That Character Challenge / Numerology Challenge - Two - Intuition.**

**A Cup Of Tea **

Ernie plodded down the street, sighing to himself when he saw Arabella peering out of the window towards Privet Drive. This was how he found her almost every time he came home, and he hated the worry he saw constantly etched on her face. He let himself in the house, hanging up his coat before entering the living room. She glanced his way when he walked in, smiling at him in welcome.

He had been living with her for three years now, though of course, the muggles who lived in the surrounding houses had no idea. Padding to the kitchen, he leant down to stroke the ginger cat lay across the doorway. Before he moved in with Arabella, he had never been fond of cats, but living in a house with five of them had made him learn to love them.

"Do you want a cup of tea," he called, knowing the answer, but asking the question anyway. This had turned into a ritual of sorts for the two of them, and he was loath to break it.

"Yes please, and some biscuits. I'll light the fire," she replied.

It would be easier if she let him light the fire, with a wave of his wand it would be done after all, but she always refused. She had taught him to live, not without magic, but in spite of it. Almost automatically, he made the tea manually, and when he helped her clean up, he did it without magic. She had taught him that magic was a luxury, not a god given right to abuse.

Carrying the tray into the living room, he smiled softly as he watched her sitting in front of the fire, poking the small flames with a poker. She never looked more beautiful to him than when she was lighting them a fire. He didn't know what it was, perhaps the concentration on her face, the way she would stick her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, or the way she would smile when the fire roared, always happy when it worked first time.

They sat in silence for a while, until she joined him on the two seat sofa in front of the window. They rarely turned the tv on, preferring each others company, be it talking or sitting comfortably silent. She was worrying her bottom lip, and he sighed again.

"Are you still worrying about the little Potter boy?" he asked gently, taking her hand in his own.

She nodded, glancing behind her, to where she had left the curtains slightly parted, in the direction of Privet Drive once more.

"Do you want me to fetch Dumbledore?"

"And tell him what? I don't know that there's anything going on, anything untoward. I just have a...a bad feeling about that family."

"I've never known your intuition to be wrong before, Bella. Has Harry said anything when he comes around?"

"He barely say's anything, that's part of the problem. I shouted him from the kitchen today, and when I came back in the lounge, he was looking around like he was confused. I don't think he know's Harry is his name, Ernie."

She sighed and leant back into his embrace, shaking her head.

"He's five years old, but, I don't know. He doesn't act like he is, you know. Anyway, Dumbledore will be here for a report next week. I'll tell him of my concerns. How was work?"

"Work was fine, love. You know how it is on that bus, gossip all day long. Them old women, they'll be the death of me, I tell ya," he joked, poking her gently in the side. She chuckled, waving his hand away.

"Now, now Ernie, there's no need for talk of that nature. Us ladies don't gossip, we share information."

"Yeah, right, and I'm a hippogriff."

"I thought there was something different about you, but I didn't think it was anything that different. Perhaps I need a new eye prescription," she muttered, a mirth in her eyes that made him laugh.

"Ah, Bella, I love you, you know that don't you?"

"Of course I know that, soft sod. I love you too."

Kissing her husband gently, she sat forward, taking hold of the two cups of tea on the table. Handing Ernie his, she sat back enjoying the warmth the fire was letting off.

This was what life was all about. Sitting in front of the fire with the person she loved most in the world, enjoying a cup of tea. She was happier than she ever thought she could be, and she wondered what she had done to deserve such a wonderful man as Ernie, but whatever it what, she hoped she kept on doing it.


	6. DeanSeamus

**Month of Competition - January**

**Prompt - #13 Safe **

**Pairing - Dean/Seamus **

**Warning - Character Suicide. **

**Word Count without A/N - 802 **

**Also Written for Write All The Ships Challenge / One Million Added Words Competition / Represent That Character Competition.**

**I'll Be Thinking Of You **

Dear Seamus,

I can't tell you where I am, it would be to dangerous, and I'm scared of sending this in case it get's you in trouble. I know I'm being selfish, but I need to know that you're alright, and I need you to know that I'm okay too. I need you to know that I'll be there, at the end of the battle, with my arms open ready for you.

I need you to know that when the times get tough, I'll always be thinking about you. You'll always be on my mind, no matter how far I have to go to be free until this war is over. I need you to know that you're the only person for me. I need you to know that I'm waiting for you. I need you to know that I'll stay safe, for you. All for you.

I need you to know that I miss you. I miss you so much, my hearts feels like its constantly on the verge of collapse. I miss you. I miss you.

I love you.

Dean

xxxx

Dear Seamus,

I've been on the run for...is it two months now? I think it is, it seems about that long. I've nearly been caught a few times, but those snatchers aren't the brightest bunch. I escaped without injury.

I think I'm going mad. Going mad or turning sappy, one or the other. Every night, no matter where I am, I stare at the moon, and hope that you're looking at it too, hoping that you know I'm looking at the same moon you are, and hoping you know that you are my shining star.

I have lots of pictures to show you. My sketchpad has been my only escape from this nightmare. I draw, a lot, mostly pictures of you, of the common room, of Hogwarts. Of home. Wherever you are will always be my home.

I miss you. So much. So much it hurts.

I love you.

Dean

xxxx

Dear Seamus,

I don't know how much longer I can survive. The snatchers nearly had me today. I'm getting weaker, food on the run isn't all that easy to come by. I'm writing this, knowing it might be the last letter I send you, knowing I might never get to hear you laugh, see the twinkle in your eyes when something makes you happy, might never feel your lips on mine again.

I needed to say goodbye. Just in case. I know it isn't safe for me to keep writing to you. I don't care. I really need to tell you... I don't know.

You need to know that I love you. I really, really love you. And you need to know, that if we do, by some miracle, ever make it through this war, I'm going to marry you and spend the rest of my life by your side.

Seamus, you need to know that if it comes down to it, if I get captured, if I get killed, you need to know that I'll be thinking of you. I'll still be loving you, long after I'm gone.

I miss you. Every day. Every minute. Every second.

I love you.

Dean

xxxx

Tears dripped down Seamus face as he read the letters again, in order, for the umpteenth time. They had been handed to him by Headmistress McGonagall, who told him they had been found in a discarded bag by a makeshift campsite. It was thought to be Dean's, and these letters had cleared it up. Dean was dead.

The battle had been over a week, and Seamus had been adamant that he was staying at Hogwarts. He knew that was where dean would come when word got to him that the battle was over. Then these letters had been given to him. His hope had died. His love had died.

A week after the letters arrived, the Headmistress informed Seamus that Dean had been found in the dungeon of one of Voldemort's followers. He had been dead not three days. He had died because there had been no one there to feed him the scraps that found their way to him every other day.

Seamus was sat on the steps of the castle, looking up at the moon. Dean had been right about that, he had spent a lot of time looking at the moon, hoping Dean was too, hoping his boyfriend knew how much he loved him. The letters were held loosely in his hand as he raised a glass to the moon.

"I'm coming, Dean."


	7. DracoBlaise

**Month Of Competition - January**

**Pairing - Draco/Blaise**

**Prompt - #98 Water **

**Word Count -1281 **

**Misunderstanding **

Draco sighed softly to himself. He hated feeling so lost and alone, he hated feeling... unwanted. But that was exactly how he was feeling, and it was all _his_ fault. Why couldn't they just sit and talk, like the adults they were supposed to be? Why did he have to storm out, with shouting and swearing and... seriously, Draco thought he was the dramatic one in the relationship.

It's not like it was their first argument. Nowhere near their first, but still, it was definitely one of the worst. It had come from nowhere, Draco still didn't know what the argument was really about, only that Blaise was seriously pissed off about something. Like, really, really mad. Worse than Draco had ever seen him.

Flashback

"_You think I don't know what's going on?" Blaise shouted as he entered through the floo, startling a daydreaming Draco. His hair looked wild, something never seen out of the comfort of their bedroom normally. Draco frowned as he stared at his fiancee. _

_"What are you on about?" he asked. _

_"You... I can't believe you would do something like that! How could you? How could you?" _

_Draco was getting irritated. How could he answer a question when he had no clue what was even going on? _

_"How long as it been going on?" Blaise roared, spitting in Draco's face as he got up close and personal. _

_"I'll repeat the question shall I? What are you on about?" Draco snarked, pushing Blaise away from him. _

_"You and Weasley! Did you think I wouldn't find out? Really, Draco? You make me sick!" _

_That had been the last thing Blaise had said, before he exited the room. Draco heard the door slam seconds later. _

End Flashback

Draco was still sitting in front of the fire, still wondering why Blaise had been so mad, still wondering what Weasley, which one he had no idea, had to do with anything, when Harry came through the floo.

He took one look at Draco and rolled his eyes, helping himself to a glass of firewhiskey and pouring one for Draco as he did. He sat facing his friend, waiting for him to speak. When it became obvious that Draco wasn't going to speak, Harry spoke.

"I just had a rather angry Blaise at my door, telling me all kinds of tales about what you and Ginny have been up to. Of course, I told him he was wrong, but he didn't seem to believe me. Why didn't you tell him why you and Ginny have been spending time together?"

"Is that what he was going on about? Bloody hell," Draco muttered. He drained the glass of firewhiskey Harry had handed him, summoned the bottle and poured himself another.

"He came in, screaming blue murder, about me and that Weasley, and then walked out without telling me what had him so worked up. I didn't have a clue what he was on about," Draco told Harry, who chuckled.

"How many Weasley's have you been spending time with lately, Draco?"

"I work with Hermione, Harry. She's a Weasley, in case you hadn't noticed. I talk to George all the time when I'm in the Alley. I honestly had no clue what, or who he was talking about. How the hell did he find out about the time I've been spending with Ginny?"

"No idea. Anyway, I called in on Ginny and told her not to answer the door or the floo, and that I'll try and sort everything out. If he touches her, Draco, you know I'll damage him, friend or not."

"I know. I'll... I'll sort it out. I know where he'll be. See you later, yeah?"

Harry stood as Draco was pulling on a cloak. He patted his friend on the back.

"Floo me later, let me know everything is all good. We'll all go for dinner next week, okay?"

Draco managed a small smile, before Harry disappeared through the floo. Stealing himself, Draco apparated from his living room, hoping he was right about where Blaise would be.

xxx

Draco walked slowly towards him, hand on his wand, just in case he needed to deflect anything nasty coming his way. Blaise was sat on a bench under an oak tree, looking at the gravestone he always visited when he was feeling sad, or angry, or out of sorts in any way. Draco could see the streaks on his cheek from un-wiped tears.

"Hey," he murmured when he reached the bench. Blaise didn't acknowledge him, so Draco knelt in front of him.

"Are you ready to listen now?" Draco asked quietly. Blaise didn't answer, but he hadn't hexed Draco yet, so the blonde took that to be a good sign.

"I assume, after a chat with Harry, that you were shouting about the time I've been spending with Ginny. You do know she's a Potter now, not a Weasley? Anyway, if you had taken the time to ask, instead of getting angry, you would have found out that everything was perfectly innocent."

Blaise snorted. "Draco, you've just admitted you've been spending time with her. What am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to trust me, Blaise. You're supposed to come home, and ask me, rather than jumping to conclusions. You, of all people, know I've absolutely no interest in females, and I wouldn't do that to you. You should know that."

Blaise sniffed. "Why were you spending time with her Draco?"

"I was planning a surprise for you. I needed help, help that I knew she could give me. If you had listened to Harry, he knew all about it. Honestly Blaise, I would never hurt you like that. I love you."

"What surprise?"

Draco sighed. He didn't want to tell his fiancee, it would ruin everything, but at this point, he would rather keep his fiancee than keep a secret. He held out his hand to the darker man, who hesitated before taking it.

"I'm going to apparate us. Stay still and keep hold of my hand."

They disappeared from sight, only to reappear beside a lake, one they had taken their first holiday as a couple water was as clear as he remembered and Draco smiled at the happy memories assaulting his mind, just by being here. He started walking, pulling a confused Blaise along in his wake. When they rose over a small hill, Blaise gasped, putting a hand to his mouth.

In front of them was a marquee, with tables and chairs, a dance floor, balloons, flowers. Everything Draco wanted. Ginny had planned this brilliantly, even Draco could admit that.

"I was arranging a surprise wedding Blaise, for next weekend. I thought you would enjoy it, and you've always talked about getting married on your birthday. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but..."

"No, no, I'm sorry Draco. You're right, I should have just talked to you. When you arrived, I was getting ready to come home, to try and sort things out. I just... I didn't know what to say. The thought of you with someone else... it... it killed me inside when I thought about it. I love you, and thank you. This is beautiful."

"You should thank Ginny. I'll arrange something for next week with her and Harry. I understand where you were coming from, Blaise, I really do, but if anything like this happens again, promise, you'll come and talk to me?"

"I promise. I love you."

" I love you too. Come on, let's go home."


	8. Harry Petunia Family

**Written for the Decisions, Decisions, Competition, Round two. I used the Prompts Hesitate / Inappropriate / I just need some air. **

**Characters - Harry Potter - Petunia Dursley **

**Warnings - None **

**Genre - Family **

**Word Count Without AN - 965 **

**Goodbye **

Harry sat alone in the kitchen of number four, waiting for Remus to arrive. It felt strange to be leaving this place for the last time, and while he knew he wouldn't miss it, there was still a sense of nostalgia. With the defeat of Voldemort, there was no need for him to live with his only living relatives any longer, no need for the blood wards, no need for their _protection. _

Petunia walked into the kitchen, and Harry frowned. Vernon and Dudley had gone out for the day, wanting no contact with any _freaks_ that they didn't need to. Petunia had told them she would be staying, if only to make sure that nothing went missing along with Harry. Like he would want a reminder of the miserable years he had spent in this house.

"What time will your escort be arriving?" she asked, and Harry noted a slight tremor in her voice. His frown deepened.

"In half an hour. You have no need to worry, we'll be leaving as soon as he arrives."

She nodded, her lips moving but no words escaping them.

"If you've got something to say, Aunt Petunia, now is the time to do so. Hopefully, we'll never see each other again."

"I... I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not treating you as Lily would have treated Dudley, had our positions been reversed. You should know, she was a good woman. Regardless of how I've treated you, I did love my sister."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself of that?" Harry sneered. He had no idea why his Aunt had suddenly decided to apologise, but in all honesty, he wanted no part of it. She, along with her husband and son, had made his formative years hell. Why should he absolve her of his guilt?

"I deserved that. Look, I know I treated you," she hesitated, "unfairly, but I... I had good reason."

"Aunt Petunia, there is never a good reason for child abuse, no matter the way you try and justify it."

"I was scared! Magic stole my sister, then killed her, and you was here and... I know the way I treated you was inappropriate, I know it was wrong, but I knew you would be the same as her. I couldn't get attached again, only to have magic take you away. It was better to treat you the way I did."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Better for you maybe. Did it never occur to you, that a four year old, or even five, six or seven year old, could understand that there was a reason why the only adults in his life hated him? Did it never occur to you that years of neglect, of cruelty, could come back and bite you on the backside. Did it not occur to you that one day I would be of age, and free to perform as much magic as I want?"

"I... I..."

Harry shook his head, standing from the table. He walked towards the back door, close to where she stood, and she scrambled back. He snorted.

"I'm going outside, I just need some air. I didn't expect you to suddenly decide to have an actual conversation with me, the first in sixteen years might I add. Don't worry, I'll be back inside before Remus arrives."

xxxx

Harry, after calming down, reentered the kitchen. His aunt was nowhere to be seen, but a banging on the stairs alerted him to where she was. Curiously, he walked into the hallway, just in time to see Petunia place a nearly identical trunk to his own in the hallway.

"What's that?" he asked.

She shrieked, resting a hand on her chest when she saw it was just Harry. He couldn't help it, he chuckled at how pale she was. You would think he was pointing his wand at her or something.

"I can't apologise, and I can't explain, but I can give you a part of your mother back. This has been in the attic since you arrived as a baby, and I thought you could take it with you. It was Lily's."

Harry gazed at the trunk. His mothers. He wondered what was inside, hoping for a journal perhaps, something to help him get to know her. He realised he was being rude.

"Thank you," he muttered quietly. Tapping the trunk with his wand, he shrunk it, placing it in his pocket with his own. He stared at his aunt.

"Really, thank you. I don't know much about mum."

She nodded. Before either of them could talk, a knock on the door signaled Remus' arrival. Harry let him in as Petunia escaped back into the kitchen.

Exchanging a hug, Remus asked if Harry was ready.

"Could you conjure me a necklace, something plain, unnoticeable?" Harry asked quickly. Remus nodded with a frown, taking out his wand and doing as asked.

"Is it permanent?" Harry asked, taking the necklace. When Remus nodded, Harry took out his own wand.

"Portus," he muttered, closing his eyes and thinking about Grimmauld Place. Portkey made, he walked into the kitchen.

"Aunt Petunia. Much as I would like to, I can't deny that you did protect me. You offered me a place, no matter how small, in your house and in your life, and I owe you for that. This is a portkey. If you ever get in trouble, with my kind or yours, if you hold this in your hand and think Lily, it'll take you to a safe place. If Vernon and Dudley are with you, it'll take them too. Be safe."

Petunia took the necklace with a trembling hand.

Clasping it around her neck, she nodded at Harry.

"Goodbye, Harry. I hope you get whatever you want in life."

"Goodbye, Aunt Petunia."


End file.
